The Cunning Livery Of Hell.

Taffeta Phrases, Silken Terms Precise, Three-piled Hyperboles, Spruce Affection, Figures Pedantical--these Summer Flies Have Blown Me Full Of Maggot Ostentation.

Ay, In The Catalogue Ye Go For Men; As Hounds, And Greyhounds, Mongrels, Spaniels, Curs, Shoughs, Water-rugs, And Demi-wolves, Are 'clept All By The Name Of Dogs: The Valued File Distinguishes The Swift, The Slow, The Subtle, The Housekeeper, The Hunter, Every One According To The Gift Which Bounteous Nature Hath In Him Closed.

A Violet In The Youth Of Primy Nature, Forward, Not Permanent--sweet, Not Lasting; The Perfume And Suppliance Of A Minute; No More.

An Honest Man, Sir, Is Able To Speak For Himself, When A Knave Is Not.

Words, Words, Mere Words, No Matter From The Heart.